


Pietro’s Pity Date

by Rorynne



Series: Marvel One Shots [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-19 02:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19966558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rorynne/pseuds/Rorynne
Summary: Pietro gets stood up, so you decide to take him out to cheer him up





	Pietro’s Pity Date

**Author's Note:**

> This is a some what edited version of a personal Fic i wrote that I was really happy with. I edited out the majority of the more personal references and such, which may or may not be noticable if you really look. But il still happy with it.

Warm. It was so beautifully warm. You took a deep breath as the early June sun warmed your face. God, you loved summer. You moved your arms over the soft grass, this was so much better than winter in Russia. With a good chunk of the team off on missions or enjoying their days off, that left you able to relax on the compound grounds.

Really, you were supposed to be doing patrols since so few were on base, but there was FRIDAY for that. She could monitor the compound better than the entire team. You just needed to listen for her announcements and rush over to the breach, it was cake. Which left you to enjoy the nice summer day.

Or so you thought.

“Enjoying the sun, Princessa?” A teasing voice asked beside you. You opened an eye to see Pietro lying beside you, resting his head on your outstretched arm.

You hummed in response. “Are you enjoying using me as a pillow? I thought you had a date.”

Pietro sighed, “She didn’t show. And I don’t like waiting.” You frowned and looked at him. He liked casual flings and relationships, he would have a new girl every few weeks or so, but that didn’t mean getting stood up didn’t hurt. Nor did it mean he deserved it. He was always upfront about his intentions as well, making sure the girl knew it was only casual. Plus, from what you’ve seen, he was a damn good date.

“I’m sorry Piet, that’s really shitty.”

He shrugged, “it is not like I was planning on marrying her, Princessa.” He was trying to hide it, but honestly, he looked like a kicked puppy staring up at the sky.

“Yeah, but it still hurts your pride.” You suggested and he nodded with another sigh.

“You are right. It definitely isn’t fun.” He admitted, still not looking at you.

You took a deep breath and sat up, letting his head hit the ground without the support of your arm. “Alright! Enough of the pity party. Let’s go.” You stood up while Pietro looked at you, baffled. “You gonna just lay there all day or are we gonna go to that cafe you like?”

His lip twitched upward, though you weren’t sure if it was in amusement or confusion. “What are you talking about, Princessa? Aren’t you in charge of guarding the compound today?”

You scoffed, “You think stark doesn’t have contingency plans in place in case everyone is gone? Come on, let’s go anywhere you like.” 

Pietro sat up, now clearly amused. “Are you asking me on a pity date?”

“Oh absolutely.” You teased, “Or just friends spending time together, but it is absolute because of how sad you look.” In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind going on a date with Pietro at least once, but knowing his preference to keep things casual you always turned him down. You couldn’t risk getting your heart broken by someone you cared so deeply for. You tapped the bracelet Tony gave you to operate FRIDAY remotely. “FRIDAY, initiate the Empty Nest Protocol. Responsible Avenger: Y/N L/N.”

“Empty Nest Protocol initiated” FRIDAY responded, “When are you returning?”

You glanced up at Pietro, who was already looking in a better mood. “That depends on Pietro. Thank you FRIDAY.” You smiled at him, “I’m glad you don’t look like a kicked puppy anymore.”

“I didn’t look like a kicked puppy.” He protested, but before you could respond he swept you into his arms and sped off. The world was a blur as he ran, the speed made it hard to even breathe, though being in his arms didn’t help. You clung to his chest, wrinkling his shirt in your grasp, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d never get used to him doing this.

You looked around as he set you down. The buildings were in all forms of repair and disrepair as if the town was recovering from some type of disaster. Nevertheless, the street was beautiful, cobblestone roads and windows decorated in colorful flowers, the sun was hanging low in the sky, getting ready to set. It definitely was not New York. “Where did you take me?”

“To the cafe that I like.” He smirked as if that had answered your question perfectly. You looked at the storefront of the building you had stopped in front of to see a beautifully hand-painted sign in three different languages, of them, the only one you could read was the Sokovian. ‘Blue Moon Cafe’ the sign translated roughly to.

You raised an eyebrow, following him into the cafe, “And where exactly is this cafe located?” The inside of the cafe had an open airy feel, while still being distinctly homey. Potted plants and vines decorated the walls and tables, and light filtered in through large arched windows.

“Sokovia, Draga mea.” He smiled, leading you to a particularly sunny window table. “It’s my favorite cafe.” He explained before softly adding, “And I was feeling a little homesick.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you sat down, surprised he admitted to being homesick. “You don’t get to come back very often do you? That’s why you like that Sokovian cafe in New York.” Days off weren’t exactly common as an avenger. They tried to schedule them, but it was more often than not that the world decided it needed saving when you least expected it. It was a life of always being on call.

Pietro shrugged, “That is a very nice cafe, but nothing like home, no?” He looked out the window at the passing pedestrians. “Do you ever feel homesick, Princessa?” You looked at him, and then out the window with him. That was a strangely difficult question to answer.

You bit your lip, “I…” You recalled the time you spent away from the Avengers wishing to try having a normal life, “I did before I came back. The avengers are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a home.”

He looked at you with curiosity, probably wondering how open you intended to be, you never made it a habit to talk about your past. Such guardedness was practically expected with you, Natasha, and Clint. “You didn’t have a home before the Avengers?”

You were quiet for a moment. “No, It’s hard to say I did.” You said before being saved by a cute waitress.

“Pietro!” She grinned, “It has been months.” Her Sokovian accent was strong, English likely wasn’t something she practiced often. “Marta and I were starting to worry. Who is your friend?” She gave you a warm, welcoming smile.

Pietro smiled broadly to the girl, “This is Y/N. Y/N This is Julia, a childhood friend.”

You smiled back to her, “I’m happy to meet you.” You respond in Sokovian, the look she gave could only be described as shocked relief before giving you a mischevious smile.

“Be careful with Pietro,” She whispered, in Sokovian, loud enough for him to hear. “He’s Trouble” She winked.

His jaw dropped in mock offense. “I am not, don’t tell her such things.”

You giggled, you already knew just how much trouble he was. “Don’t worry, I know how to out trouble Trouble.”

“I like this one Pietro.” She laughed, “Try not to lose her too quickly.” Your heart flipped slightly at the implication that you were his to even lose. “What would you like to order?”

“Coffee and, if you have it, some chocolate cake would be wonderful.” You requested.

“Only coffee for me.” Pietro smiled as she floated away towards the barista. He chuckled lightly as she passed, he was comfortable here, in a way that you weren’t used to seeing. This was his home in the same way that the compound was yours.

“What was growing up in Sokovia like?” You questioned looking into his pale blue eyes. Seeing him happy like this made your heart squeeze.

“A lot like growing up anywhere else I am sure.” He shrugged as you were handed your orders. “Playing football in empty lots, dragging my sister around the city, riding bikes, hating school. Before our parents died I’m sure it was not much different from yours, no?” He probed again.

You shook your head, “I never went to school, and I’m sure the games my friends played were different from most.” Your childhood could probably be more comparable to Natasha’s than Pietro’s, but you didn’t say that.

“You were homeschooled then?” He tried again, desperate to learn more about you.

You shrugged, “In a manner of speaking. I learned what they thought I should.” You took a bite of cookie before continuing, “If it wasn’t considered useful, they didn’t bother. What were your parents like?” You asked impulsively, before realizing the personal nature of the question. “I mean, if you want to talk about them.”

He huffed a short laugh, warm smile on his face, “They were good, kind. I love them dearly even now. My mother used to make the best chicken paprikash in the world. I think Wanda still has the recipe. And my father would always sneak us sweets.” His eyes shone at the memory. “I’m certain Mama knew, but she never stopped him. And every Saturday,” he pointed across the street to a small synagogue, “We would go to that synagogue for service.”

“I didn’t know you were religious.” You commented, looking at the building. It had large gaps in it from the battle but otherwise looked beautiful.

He nodded, “My sister more so than I. After our parents died I got,” he paused, looking for the right word, “disillusioned to it all. I was angry. We both were, but I think I bore far more anger than her.”

You stared int your coffee cup, “You lost a lot, a loving family, a happy life, who could blame you?” You thought back on your own childhood, would you really have been so angered to lose that? Probably not, you decided as you recalled the darker days of your childhood, but Pietro didn’t have that. A sense of loss washed over you, you weren’t even allowed to be a child.

Pietro hummed in agreement as he sipped his coffee, “Despite it all, I can’t regret my anger. Perhaps it led me to doing some not so good things, but without it, I would not have helped nearly so many lives.” He smiled looking at the synagogue. “I never thought I would say it, but I am glad to be an Avenger.”

“Yeah, I heard you hated us Avengers,” You teased. “Until you took a bullet for Clint.” You had missed the battle of Sokovia and the fight against Ultron.

He laughed, “He’s lucky I heal quickly.”

Your smile faded as you thought about it. Clint was the whole reason you were an Avenger. The closest thing to a brother that you had. “You saved my family you know. Thank you.” You swallowed, looking back out the window. “He’s, uh, all that I’ve got.”

Pietro didn’t say anything for a time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “He isn’t all that you have, Princessa.” He said softly, almost too softly for you to hear, “You have me as well.”

Your heart fluttered, “You know Piet, you really need to be careful about how you phrase things. You might give a girl the wrong idea one day.”

“I feel, perhaps I already have.” He said. “The one I care most about seems to believe I don’t.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you parsed together his meaning. “I don’t understand.”

“I care about you Princessa. Deeply. But I fear I’ve somehow managed to convince you otherwise.”

You shook your head, heart racing. “You always just want to have flings, you flirt with everyone.”

He gently touched your hand, “I wouldn’t mind something more serious with you. But, you always say no.”

Your mind raced, you remembered the countless times he had asked you out, as well as the times he asked other girls out. He always made sure to specify it was only a casual thing with all of them. Except you, you realized, he never said any such thing to you, you just assumed. Words escaped you as your stomach swooped, “I, I thought.” You took a deep breath trying to steady your racing mind. “ You wouldn’t mind that?”

“Would you?”

The way Pietro smirked at you, you were sure your face was about seven shades of pink. You half expected him to say he was just jokings. “I, I think I would like it.” You finally stammered out and his smirk grew into a grin.

“Would you like me to show you around Sokovia draga mea? There are many places here almost as beautiful as you.” He said smoothly, which frankly did nothing for your already racing heart.

“I think I would like that too.”


End file.
